


Let's Make a Deal

by ryu-no-hakai (PrincessNiallxHoran)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anal creampie, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/M, M/M, Multi, Vaginal Sex, vaginal creampie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 19:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17772449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessNiallxHoran/pseuds/ryu-no-hakai
Summary: Ashe and McCree have an important deal to make with the prince of the Shimada family overseas, but their real interest isn't signing on the dotted line.





	Let's Make a Deal

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Valentines Day Gift for Aunty in the Hanzo's Hole Horde Discord. <3 If you like Hanzo's Hole it's definitely an excellent community!! <3
> 
> Beginning is a little awkward -- I'm a mess when trying to get to the business!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

Hanzo doesn’t really know how much he  _ needs _ to be taken care of till he shows up in Arizona. If the deal doesn’t go well, the orders specifically state not to come home until he’s regained a semblance of his honor, so his shoulders are tense and his jaw is set from the get go.

They don’t ease his concern when he arrives -- their compound is a bit of a disaster. Splintered wood shacks for subordinates are barely standing and full bellied antique diesel motorbikes rev at obscene decibels from countless pinpoints within a quarter mile as they take off on hunts and missions. As he arrives, the two of them stand proudly in front of their palace, a stark contrast visually in not only height but also style. In Yakuza it’s important to be cohesive; pristine. It’s as though nothing about the Deadlock Gang headquarters is consistent in any way and it makes Hanzo itch.

He finds quickly that the inconsistencies in costuming and layout are the least of his concerns, Because they’re intelligent and communicative; because together, the two of them move as a symbiotic beast that unravel him faster than he’d be disowned if anyone back home was made aware.

For being so run down, the insides of the buildings are elegant (at least the ones he’s invited into), and the food and liquor they give him for his meal is acceptable even by his standards. They go over the deal -- what he’s willing to offer for the entire package, and subsequently what they are willing to trade yearly for the same deal. It’s not until the trade is settled that the woman, Ashe, takes a seat beside him -- too close -- and has him sign on the agreement in a flourish of ink.

It’s legally binding, he gets his own copy and a swell of relief flows through him before her hand is tracing the inside of his thigh; she’s gazing down her nose, pressing her lips together analytically.

“Shouldn’t spend your first night in Deadlock territory on your own.”

Behind him two large hands encompass his shoulders -- Jesse -- and he feels himself dwarfed simply by the magnitude of their presence. They rub over his too-tense shoulders, massaging the knots from them carefully as they settle into silence. The proposition weighs on him, head tilting proudly as though to rebuke it in his own way, protection as he considers it. The fine whiskey pumps pleasantly through his veins, a low hum that he can’t blame anything on if he chooses to go through with it.

“Come on, Darlin’. Consider it an offer of southern hospitality. We’ll take care of ya real nice -- s’been a long time since we had something this pretty to play with.”

It stings his pride -- something  _ pretty _ to  _ play _ with? But the rolling baritone is soothing, and Ashe’s hand is getting  _ deadly _ close to the junction of his thigh and it doesn’t really  _ matter _ now because they’ve signed the same documents he has. They’re already sitting in the inbox at the Shimada compound and his duty is entirely complete --

“Aw, Jess. Don’t go coercin’ the boy. He’s gotta make the right choice all on his own.”

\--

Hanzo finds himself in a bed soon enough. It’s clear they don’t share the same room -- this one belongs to Ashe. The decor is an array of reds and purples with black trim, decidedly far more well kept than anything else he’s seen so far. There are mannequins in the corner with various articles of clothing draped over it, sewing machines and needles are sprawled out along a desk and at the feet there are bundles of leather for holsters and boots. Everything except for Jesse behind him on his knees, drawing Hanzo’s hair off of his shoulders and Ashe crawling toward him in nothing but well fit leather trousers is  _ s _ o  _ captivating _ .

She makes him look though -- she grabs his jaw surprisingly gently even as it startles the air out of him and demands a safeword.  _ We ain’t in the business of breakin’ you in the bedroom in any way you don’t feel like, understand? There’s two of us and we can get mighty -- busy. _

The conversation is a little rushed, and it’s hard to think through everything she’s telling him while Jesse is untucking Hanzo\s shirt from his pants and drawing a broad hand over the swell of his chest, but he settles on  _ Katsu-Don _ for his word and both leaders test it on their tongue to ensure they’ll recognize the sound before Ashe is spitting orders.

Hanzo is guided off the bed and stripped -- he doesn’t have to do any of the legwork. It’s all Ashe’s delicate fingers that tug and expose him while Jesse perches at the side of the bed, stroking at the outline of his cock through his pants. There’s a fixation he has on the skin that’s exposed to him, eyes hungrily tracing each inch of porcelain that meets the light in the bedroom until nothing is left to his imagination. She keeps feeling at him -- fleeting little touches to the V of his hips that make him shudder, across the supple weight of his chest and then to a nipple that she pinches with amusement.

“McCree -- I ain’t stood here undressin’ our guest for you not to have your part ready.” It’s not nearly as biting as it could have been, but it does send Jesse into a rush, working at the button of his pants to shimmy from them, ungodly sized dick flopping lewdly from it’s confines and resting heavy on his thigh. Ashe holds hanzo’s chin again, guiding his eyes to the frustrated, red tip and leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. She leaves a plum print on his skin which she admires for a moment before resting her head on his shoulder and letting her own gaze fall on Jesse in solidarity. The bastard only smiles smugly, palming gently at the patch of neatly trimmed hair at the base.

“My apologies. At your leisure, then.”

Ashe tilts her head to the shell of his ear, lips curling pleased away from her teeth as she gives a gentle lick to the cartilage.

“What are you waiting for, Sugar? Show us how much you can swallow and you’ll get a reward.”

Hanzo aches between his thighs as he steps forward, his own flushed cock modest in comparison as he drops to his knees in front of Jesse. Behind him his hair is once again gathered off his chest and onto his back, twisted tight in her fist to keep it out of the way as he leans in to face the leaking monster in front of him.

The Shimada lets a determined breath rush from his nose before he grips Jesse at the base, wrapping his mouth around the thick crown and testing the weight on his tongue. There’s a warm groan from each of them, and with the encouragement, he continues his examination. His eyes screw shut in concentration, trying to control his breathing through his nose as he swallows down another two inches, slow and careful. The tip knocks against the back of his throat and he draws off with a gasp, affronted for a moment before he’s back on, fingers kneading gently at the base where he holds them.

“C’mon darlin’--” Jesse’s voice is thin, strained with arousal at the scene in front of him as he nudges Hanzo’s hands from his base, “the lady wants to see how much you can swallow.” Ashe reaches around, takes hold of Hanzo’s wrists and drags them behind his back to hold them loosely there. Hanzo’s eyes flash up to Jesse then, hair framing blown pupils now that nothing holds it back. McCree gives another groan and his cock twitches slick up off his thigh in response.

“Shh, shh.” Jesse’s hand gathers the mess of hair and pulls it back off his face as well as he can. He’s still messy, strands in the way of his mouth as he tries to lick the weight up off of Jesse’s thigh and into his mouth. Behind him, his wrists are adjusted, held just in one of her hands as she leans around him to watch. He could easily free himself, suck with the energy and capability of someone who can brace for impact, but he doesn’t -- lets her hold him in place and plays in the parameters they’ve set. It’s  **easy** .

Once he has the cock back in his mouth he puts himself to work, bobbing, licking in quick circles at the underside, and pressing his tongue into the bitter slit at the tip. Swallowing cock has  _ never _ been an issue for him -- he’s  _ always _ been able to take what’s given when he finally breaks and gets what he needs.

But Hanzo has limits, though he pushes, swallows down another inch and lets McCree settle in the clutch of his throat. He stills, eyes watering and heart pounding in his ears as he holds his position. He wants desperately to move onward, wants to keep his momentum and impress them, though he couldn’t understand that desire for the life of him. It’s a mistake, he realizes, a sharp gag wracking him as he pulls back to wheeze air into his lungs. The dick is sloppy wet and his mouth is a pink mess, lips parted and eyes half lidded as he regains his composure and slides back down. He’s met with the same resistance, slobber glistening down the final few inches to the base from where it dribbles past Hanzo’s lips. Jesse doesn’t seem to mind, free hand pushing black strands off his forehead to watch himself disappear into those pretty cock-slick lips.

“I think you’re taking everything you can, little one,” Ashe’s voice invades his thoughts, his concentration breaking for only a moment before she’s shooing Jesse away and dragging Hanzo off by a firm grip in his hair. A whine trails the length of cock that slides out of the slick of his mouth, “look at that -- he’s sopping all the way to his roots. That’ll do, princess.” She wipes a strand of spit from his chin before she grips tightly at the jaw in a warning --  _ don’t look away, Sugar _ .

“Have you earned your reward?” It’s cold, severe, and it has Hanzo throbbing where his cock lays untouched unceremoniously between his legs. He nods, restricted by her grasp and she grins ever so slightly, leaning in to press her mouth to his.

She tastes like the wine she chose over whiskey at dinner -- sweet grapes and just a touch of alcohol. A moment passes and she’s motioning over his shoulder at Jesse, and Hanzo feels the larger man move out of his space. Once Ashe is done with his mouth she ushers him in the same impatient style to where McCree is sprawled out on his back on the bed, stroking his eager dick and dragging his hand through the mess left behind.

“S’a gorgeous color on you, darlin’. Gonna have to wear it when you come back next year.” The grin written on the man’s face is infuriating but Hanzo is cock-drunk, barely able to glare in turn before he’s being coerced onto Jesse’s chest. He wants to argue, but the man’s hands encompass the expanse of his ass and pull him forward, plunging his cock past parted lips and ripping a cry from the back of the Shimada’s throat.

“Don’t bring him off too fast --,” Ashe’s voice rings out in irritation from a few feet away accompanied by the shimmy of a belt and a drawer to a table, “we still got an entire evenin’!” Jesse backs off almost immediately, looking nearly pained as he laves his tongue along the underside of Hanzo’s cock and slips one hand up to grab at a tit.

“Tryin’ to deny him more than one? Stingy, ain’t ya?”

But he listens, instead kneading the muscle in Hanzo’s ass and coming most likely intentionally dangerously close to the taut hole between his cheeks. The Shimada quakes over him, rolling down into the oversized hands and chancing a glance down at the lazy grin on his host’s face.

“Grab the headboard.” It’s an order, and he’s not heard Jesse make much more than a guided suggestion so he’s grabbing at it before he can even process why the thought of not following through is a bad one. There’s a quick yank and suddenly he’s spread open wide over the other’s face, a tongue lapping thick and lewd at his opening. He lets out another wail and behind him his toes pop at the intensity he clenches. Filthy, dirty, awful.  _ Filthy _ ,  _ dirty awful _ .

**Wonderful** .

Hanzo has to bite at his own arm to stifle his cries as the tongue defiles everything below his waist, wriggling against the muscle to pressing up against his perineum until his thighs are shuddering with aching intensity. He’s almost entirely lost in the sensation until the bed dips suddenly and McCree is letting out a growling moan where he’s currently lapping at the Shimada’s ass like a starving dog.

He manages to draw his gaze away and over his shoulder just enough to catch sight of Ashe stroking at Jesse’s dick idly while she pops the cap of a small bottle in her other hand. It’s mesmerizing to watch her as she slicks up her fingers, twisting them through the mess and making the cock at her hip glisten even more. All the while the tongue against him never stops working -- merely grows more persistent at his rim until it’s twisting up in his insides, forcing his eyes shut and his back taut in desperation. It’s all the right pressure in all the right places but it’s just not  _ enough _ , and once he makes this connection, he’s rocking his hips down, trying to coerce more of it inside him and failing miserably to do so. It’s like once Jesse senses his need he draws back just enough to infuriate him.

He has half a mind to complain -- to tell Jesse exactly what he should be doing with that tongue or  _ so help him _ \-- but then Ashe is settling over the vaquero’s strong hips, placing her own slicked up hands on Hanzo’s waist.

He stills again, suddenly unsure of exactly where this is going before her arms wrap around him, gently settling over his pained dick and stroking delicately along the length. She gets one, two, three strokes before she leans in to nestle in against his shoulder.

“Sound like you’re enjoyin’ yourself, princess. Tongue’s the only good part about that smart mouth of his.” Jesse scoffs where he licks, sending a shiver down Hanzo’s spine before she’s slowly rolling something over his cock. Upon closer inspection, he recognizes the device -- a ring to keep him from pushing off too soon. It’s a dark grey, nothing fancy, but it holds his orgasm back viscerally and elicits a frustrated moan.

“Now now, that ain’t no way to talk to a lady.” Ashe takes his hips then and guides him back away from Jesse’s eager mouth that does nothing to follow, most likely sensing that she was making a point with their most honored guest. She keeps one hand at his hip while the other slips behind, fingers gliding up his crack and catching with intent at his rim.

Hanzo lets his head fall back on her shoulder, his chest pink and heaving as she teases over his hole again and again. It’s unfair, and he lets her know with the impatient moans that leave him. Her only answer is sweet kisses to his cheek and shoulder, smearing more plum across his pale skin before she presses him gently forward, enough to expose himself to her but still keep a firm grip on the headboard.

He’s learning he needs that headboard.

“Ain’t you pretty. Can’t be your first time, right? Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

As he tilts his head down, he finally makes blurry eye contact with Jesse, realizing the overstimulation has driven him near tears. It’s not his first time, but he sure as hell can’t say he’s ever been touched or revered enough to weep. There’s a moment of concern where McCree seems to note the tears before Ashe is finally pressing into him, spreading his rim to make room for two slender fingers.

Hanzo feels his eyes roll back and a drip of pre manages to roll past the ring and bead at his tip -- below him the expression switches from concern to hunger and Jesse reaches carefully up to push the hair once more from their guest’s expression so he can see it more clearly.

“You open right up, don’t ya? We’re not gonna have any trouble getting inside you, are we sugar?” Ashe’s voice is chiding, her fingers pressing and scissoring until she adds a third, and then a few minutes later a fourth. Hanzo can’t seem to find his words, only understands that his focus is slipping and soon enough he’s not going to be able to process anything but the fire-hot touch wherever their skin meets.

He barely notices when they’re shifting him, laying him out on his belly and pulling up at his hips. The Shimada obliges eagerly, going so much as to set his knees apart to make more room for whomever wants to be behind him to settle in.

Ashe replaces Jesse below him, but this time she’s propped against the pillows, having lost her trousers and settled in with her legs spread open in front of him.

Hanzo knows it’s not a request, though he finds he wouldn’t deny it even if it were. She’s slick and pink on the inside where she spreads herself open on two fingers, and delightfully smooth below the patch of silvery curls on her pubic bone. He gets to work, testing her taste on the flat of his tongue and exploring every warm fold until his chin is shining and her hand is fisted in his hair to keep him focused.

Behind him, McCree finishes his prep, siddles in a couple more fingers -- far wider than his partner’s -- before he lines himself up and begins to press himself inside. Hanzo finds himself stuttering where he’s put to work, stalling over Ashe’s clit and squeezing his eyes shut as he adjusts. There’s a rumble of a groan that shivers through her soft cunt, and he feels her hand tense in his hair through the haze of sensation.

He’s half pulled and half pushed into, and he’s grateful for Ashe’s patience in getting back to his given task, because the cock that’s slipping its way inside of him isn’t small by any means. Hanzo nestles his face into the junction of her thigh, panting against it as she pets at his hair and cheeks until Jesse is as seated as he can be, a couple inches left exposed where he can’t quite seem to fit.

There’s a few minutes granted for him to adjust while he’s thrusted into shallowly, barely pulling out more than a centimeter or so before the length returns in full. The Shimada puts his mouth back to work, body twitching around the intrusion and heart pounding away in his chest where it’s trapped behind his ribs.

Jesse is careful with him, slow to stretch him out as he works him open and only speeding up when he knows Hanzo can take more -- when he’s whining and whimpering against the quivering pussy at his lips. He watches the pink tongue dart out, the way Ashe’s fingers clench in his hair once he’s found a good spot, and how she ruts her hips up against his face to remind him who’s in charge if he gets a little too cocky.

It’s like clockwork, and before long Jesse has fit another inch in, beginning to drag further and pump faster. With each press forward Hanzo is grunting against her skin, tongue now darting out to press past her slit and into the warm heat inside. She’s on fire, shivering and trembling against him as he works her to her core, her own needs being serviced now that she’s relaxing into it. It’s still under her control of course, but she doesn’t fight it when the Shimada loops his arms around her hips to drag her tight against him, seeking deeper into her depths with a hungry desperation he’d previously shown when trying to swallow the entirety of Jesse’s cock.

“Eager to fuckin’ please,” it’s rasped from behind him, a hand gripping one of the Shimada’s cheeks to pull him open and get a good view at where his hungry rim is sucking in almost everything given to him, “what a goddamn lucky deal.”

They find a few different positions -- each more intense than the last -- but the straw breaks the camel’s back once they’re settled into the large red armchair in the far corner of the room. By this point, Ashe is wearing the least plum of all of them, but the majority is rubbed off over Hanzo’s kiss-bitten chest. Some of it is smeared across Jesse’s face, and there’s even a bit at the curve of Hanzo’s hip where a few more bruises are strewn.

Hanzo is settled with Jesse pressed in deep, rearranging him from the inside out as he faces the rest of the room, while Ashe carefully removes the ring from the base of his cock. By now his face is tear tracked and his voice is wrecked -- everything is too good and too intense all at once and he’s told them multiple times that if they don’t let him come he’s going to shred the contracts.

As soon as the ring is discarded, she pinches him sharp at the base and settles her gaze on him directly, bleary eyes and all. There’s something unspoken there, but Hanzo can feel it ring out through his soul as clearly as if she’d threatened his very life --  _ don’t you fuckin’ come. _

She takes a moment then, as Jesse slows to a deep grind, to straddle Hanzo’s hips with a tender care, carefully sinking down on him herself until she settles in at his root. Her cunt pulsates around him, the slick writhing flame that it is and it takes everything in him not to lose himself at the sensation of being surrounded by it.

Jesse rubs at his hip, a soothing motion of empathy before he snaps his hips again, every single inch now buried deep inside Hanzo’s heat. The chain reactions jostle each of them, soft noises issued as McCree’s hands settle on Ashe’s hips, guiding her effortlessly to rock and grind in the Shimada’s lap.

“ _ Not yet _ .” Ashe no longer makes eye contact, her nose nestled in the crook of Hanzo’s neck as she angles herself for each guided shift to hit something sweet inside. Her hips break from Jesse’s grasp after a moment to drive herself home, only stopping to seize onto Hanzo’s shoulders and sink her teeth against the tender curve of his throat.

She clenches on him, her orgasm rippling through in waves as she rides it through to the aftershocks. There are more tears breaking his vision and blurring it beyond compare as Hanzo braces himself, squeezes vice-like around Jesse in desperation not to shame himself in front of them. They’ve asked something simple -- something direct. Behind him Jesse lets out his own sound of dissonant disconnect, twitching viscerally against the tense walls holding him in place.

It feels like hours before Ashe is finally leaning forward, soft breasts pressing softly against Hanzo’s collarbone as she places uncharacteristically tender kisses to the bow of McCree’s lips.

“ _ Breed him _ .”

Hanzo nearly breaks at the sudden movement and the four tight hands that grab and ground him as Jesse lifts to hammer himself in  _ hard _ . One hit to his prostate has him rupturing with a sobbing cry, his cock spilling and shuddering its mess into the soft pink cunt he’d spent so long worshipping an hour prior. He wraps his arms around her waist, hugs her to him as he pushes deep -- instinctual -- and stutters against the harsh thrusts that are quickly becoming uneven and sporadic.

“Fuck. Ashe _ \-- did he -- _ !” And then moment behind him slows to an intense grind, another set of teeth imprinting on his right shoulder as Jesse finally lets himself go, holding close and tight as though Hanzo might slip away from him.

\--

Minutes pass by them, huddled together in a shuddering mass before Ashe finally drawls against Hanzo’s shoulder, slow and lazy but with a hint of firm intent.

“I never told you to come -- least of all  _ inside _ me,” Hanzo feels his blood chill as much as it can in his state, and he tenses up with every nerve he has in the realization, “but I s’pose this is somethin’ we can work on next year.”


End file.
